


Carry You

by everylosttouch



Series: Canon SH fics [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: M/M, Magnus is too, No One Is Okay, Post-Episode: s03e10 Erchomai, Save Shadowhunters, alec is injured, i'm pretty sure all of us are still trying to recover from the emotional trauma of this ep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 05:33:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15066257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everylosttouch/pseuds/everylosttouch
Summary: There’s a searing pain in his chest that he can’t get rid of.He confides in Magnus to heal his wounds.





	Carry You

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Ruelle's _Carry You_

_I love you, Alexander_

He feels it then. That pain. That shooting, sharp pain that throbs in his chest at the words Magnus says to him. Those words are so full of emotion, full of feeling and promise, promise that he’ll return safely to him.

It still doesn’t help the ache, the ripping, soul-dispersing pain that he feels as Magnus screams, as his yells reach his ears and echo in the open space of the apothecary. It destroys him, watching helplessly as his boyfriend, the love of his life, is eaten away by the flames of Edom.

There’s a flash, and then he’s gone.

The ground smolders. There’s a burnt scent in the air that reeks, making his nose scrunch up in distaste.

There’s pain; a burning, searing pain coursing through his body.

He looks down to his hands, to the pale flesh he’s sure may possibly be burnt from the intensity of the flames. But there is none. There’s no burn, no blister, no irritated cell on his body that indicates pain. But he _feels it_. He feels it coursing up his hands, burrowing up into his chest until that sharp pain pricks at his heart and—

And the next second he blinks, it’s dark.

It’s dark and there’s a weight that presses against him, pinning him against the wall of concrete below him. His arm screams in pain. He can’t move it. It’s too heavy, the air too thick to raise it. His other arm faces resistance, shaking at the sudden weight, the sudden pressure that shoves up against it.

He tries to blink, tries to focus on the moonlight casting down on the figure above him, tries to distinguish the words that echo out in the alleyway.

_They say the worst pain a Shadowhunter can feel is the loss of his Parabatai._

That same pain—that searing, burning pain—blooms in his chest once more. It starts as a pinprick, barely noticeable before suddenly sparking, a wildfire bursting over his skin. It rips through the skin, through the muscles and blood vessels of his body, settling in his heart. Liquid fire pours through his body, choking his words. He gasps for oxygen that suddenly can’t flow through his lungs. It surges forward relentlessly, effortlessly, consuming him in its entirety.

It's so…so hot.

It burns and aches and scorches him, robbing him of everything he clings to.

He gasps, unable to breathe.

The edges of his vision are hazy, dark.

He can’t see.

He can’t breathe.

_He can’t—_

He surges up with a pained gasp, the last bits of oxygen in his lungs slipping away. His eyes dart everywhere, to every dark corner and crevice, to the beams of moonlight peeking through the patterned curtains, to the floor, to the sheets covering his legs, to the bandages—

He gasps again in pain, chest heaving quickly in short bursts, hyperventilating and trying—desperately trying—to fight the fears circling in his head, the pain emanating from his chest.

“Alexander, it’s okay. You’re okay,” a voice calls out in desperation. It calls out again to him, more distant than before. But it falls deaf to his ears, full of whispers of pain, of fears, of regrets and mistakes.

“Alec!”

Alec blinks, letting out one final, large gasp; the oxygen settles back into his lungs. His skin sets aflame as gentle, featherlight touches caress the hairs of his arms, the curve of his back, the bandages around his chest.

Alec blinks again, and the darkness subsides. The lights slowly brighten, but only just so that the warm yellow light of the lamps replaces the cool blue tones of the night.

He looks up from his trembling hands to the source of the gentle touches.

It’s there he finds Magnus.

Magnus lies next to Alec, sitting in a chair stationed at his bedside as Alec heals. His eyes search over Alec, looking, searching for any open wound. There’s a sorrow, a vulnerable and insecure glint to his eyes as they graze over Alec’s form. Alec knows that look in Magnus’ eyes, that regret that trails through his lingering gazes and distant stares. It eats him alive, from the inside out.

He reaches up, body moving slowly as if he’s been shackled by large weights. The crackling skin of his hand, dry from lack of moisture, wraps around Magnus’, giving a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

Magnus gives a smile.

It doesn’t soothe Alec at all.

Another sharp pain splits through his heart, and he winces, letting out a hitch of breath.

“Here, let’s lay you back down,” Magnus offers. His ringless fingers are sliding from where they’ve been stationed, one cradling the back of his neck while the other stays joined in Alec’s hand.

They move slowly. Alec’s movements are still so stiff and tense. There’s broken, fractured noises of pain splintering his vocal chords. He lets out harsh breaths as they descend, and a sigh of relief passes through his lips when the planes of his back finally slot against the bend of the mattress under him.

“Do I need to call Catarina?” Magnus asks finally, drawing his hand away from the back of Alec’s neck to caress his cheek. He runs across the apples of Alec’s cheeks with the pad of his thumb. That sorrowful glint in his eyes is still there, still stormy and displaying a collection of emotions he doesn’t dare speak.

Alec’s eyes flutter closed, unable to bear that melancholic look. He shakes his head slightly.

“It was just a nightmare,” he croaks out finally, throat raw and scratchy from his harsh gasping breathing just moments before.

There’s another gentle squeeze from Magnus’ hand.

“I’ll go make some tea to help calm you down and ease your throat,” Magnus offers again.

Alec can hear the creak of the chair, groaning as Magnus rises from it. His fingers slip from Alec’s, the warmth disappearing into the air and—

“ _Don’t_ ,” Alec protests, reaching out with shaking fingers, hoping, _praying_ that Magnus is still within arm’s reach. He finds the plane of Magnus’ palm, pulling him closer as if gravity pushes them together. “ _Please don’t go. Just…just stay. Please._ ”

Magnus breathes out, sighing as he shifts closer to Alec. He can feel the bed dip slightly as Magnus sits close to him. The smell of sandalwood isn’t there, surprisingly. He must have not washed his hair yet, Alec muses distractedly.

_Of course he hadn’t. He’d been here with Alec this entire time_.

Magnus reaches up to card his nimble fingers through Alec’s dark hair. The gesture is soothing, relaxing, and makes Alec forget the throbbing pain that aches in his chest. He hums in approval at the gesture.

“ _Is there anything I can do for you, darling?_ ” Magnus whispers out gently.

Alec takes a deep breath in, focusing on how it fills his lungs before it leaves once more in a steady exhale. His eyes flutter back open to see Magnus staring back at him with hooded eyes and a warm smile. There’s still sadness in it, but less so. More endearment.

It tugs on his heartstrings a bit.

“C-Could you sing for me?” He stutters out, vocal chords suddenly thickening after the strain he’s put on his body.

There’s a blink of surprise from Magnus, but it’s swift and gone in an instant. That endearing, loving smile pulls back across his face.

Alec’s heart surges.

It’s the first honest smile he’s seen from Magnus since he left for Edom.

“Of course,” Magnus agrees before asking “Any requests?”

Alec shakes his head. It’s not about what Magnus sings. Whether it be happy or sad, Alec revels in the deep rumble of Magnus’ songs, letting the gentle caresses and somber tones of his voice as he drifts from baritone to tenor warm his soul.

“I just want to hear your voice,” Alec breathes out hoarsely.

There’s a silent nod from Magnus before he starts.

_I know it hurts,_

_It’s hard to breathe sometimes._

 

It starts out as a gentle hum. Quiet, but gradually growing louder so that it’s the only sound present in the room. He sings, and there’s a smile on Magnus’ face as he mouths the words under his breath. His fingertips brush through Alec’s hair, across his temple, and down to his jawline. Each caress is warm, careful, tender.

The lullaby eventually pulls Alec’s heavy eyes closed, and soon his breathing evens out, a soft snore or two making is appearance.

It’s then that his singing simmers out, his caresses stilling. Alec is warm under his touch. Like the sun, he melts into summery hues as he dips into the horizon of sleep. He’s here; alive and breathing.

Magnus leans forward, pressing a featherlight kiss to Alec’s forehead.

It’s then in the silence that he lets the warmth around him sweep back into his cold bones. He surrenders to the sigh of relief that Alec is here, that _Alec is alive._ He pushes away the sorrow, the pain and regret for one more day. For now, he has to be strong.

For Alec.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm just a sucker for magnus singing to alec, sue me
> 
>  
> 
> Let's also keep fighting to #SaveShadowhunters!!! We can't give up!
> 
> Come say hi on [tumblr](https://biconicmagnusbane.tumblr.com/) or [twitter!](https://twitter.com/the_biconic_mb)


End file.
